


A Misspent Youth Group

by MirrorMystic



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gals being pals, Gen, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Small Towns, confusing teen feelings, guys being dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 08:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14808138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: In another time, in another life, the teens of Ram Village (population: 800) don’t have to worry about fighting dragons or the risen dead. The worst things they have to worry about are who’s taking who to prom, how to go a full month without setting the church on fire, how to explain to your parents that you’re a little bit in love with all your friends- and, really, just how to fill the hours of a day, in a sleepy little town where everyone knows your name.





	A Misspent Youth Group

**Author's Note:**

> All I want are these kids to live, laugh, and love together, without all that pesky "war" getting in the way. So, please enjoy what is technically my first ever high school AU- the Echoes teens spending an overnight lock-in at the Church of Mila getting to know Mila and each other- mostly each other. 
> 
> Shout-out to Echo, Gloria, and Ryan for indulging the headcanons that led to the creation of this 'verse, and shout-out to Courtney Stevens' "Dress Codes for Small Towns", the book to which this AU owes its life. And shout-out to you, too- because if you enjoy this small town, youth ministry modern AU, well, maybe you just might see more of it in the future. Enjoy!

~*~  
  
Conrad once tried to convince Celica that church lock-ins were fun.  
  
Just think of it as a sleepover, he’d told her. You get to spend a night getting closer to Mila alongside your peers, and your parents all get a night without you in their hair. Everybody wins!  
  
On paper, at least. In practice, you wound up with ten hormonal teenagers in the church basement, not “getting closer to Mila” so much as they were getting close to…  
  
...well.  
  
“Alright, listen up, everyone!” Alm said, clapping his hands together. “First thing on the list: I’ve got some bad news, some good news, and some more bad news. The bad news is, since Ram High is tiny, it looks like this year, we’re not actually going to have a senior prom.”  
  
A general groaning of disappointment. Alm pushed forward.  
  
“The good news is, Conrad convinced Father Nomah to let us throw our own party...”  
  
“Oooh!”  
  
“...here, at the church.”  
  
“ _Awwww!_ ”  
  
“Are you serious?” Gray complained. “Where even is there space for a party?”  
  
“Well,” Genny began, cautiously optimistic, “I suppose there _is_ the reception hall…”  
  
“Oh, yes, a church dance, how very thrilling…” Kliff mused dryly.  
  
“Stay with me, guys. That was the _good_ news,” Alm said with a wince. “The _other_ bad news is that the church… doesn’t really have money for a dance. So, we’re gonna have to do the fundraising ourselves.”  
  
Another, general groan of disappointment.  
  
“So, uh… I was thinking we could put together a list of fundraising ideas-” Alm ducked, suddenly finding himself being pelted by plastic cups. “Hey. Hey! Don’t shoot the messenger!”  
  
More groaning. More plastic cups. Alm sighed, defeated, and retreated from his spot in front of the whiteboard, looking for a nook he could squeeze into on the couch.  
  
A youth room was nothing without two things: the youth, and the, well, room. And that couch- lovingly dubbed ‘the Squish Couch’- was the centerpiece of the room, a battered old suede couch that could comfortably sit four, but the kids stubbornly and routinely insisted could seat ten.  
  
“I have an idea!” Tobin announced. He sprang up, trading his spot on the Squish Couch for Alm’s pack of markers.  
  
Alm settled in, with Gray and Clair to his left and Celica’s mob to his right. Together, they waited while Tobin wrote their names on the board, in two columns- one for the guys and one for the girls.  
  
“I say we talk about something cooler than fundraising,” Tobin proposed. “I say we talk about who’s going to take who to this dance!”  
  
“Why are _you_ leading this discussion?” Faye heckled.  
  
“Um, excuse me, Faye? _Who’s_ got the markers right now?”  
  
“Shouldn’t Celica be in charge of this?” Clair wondered. “More than likely, her brother’s the one who’s going to end up organizing this…”  
  
Tobin huffed. “ _Celica_ . Is _busy_ . Drowning in pink. Which means _I_ am in charge! Right, Celica?”  
  
Celica looked up. Mae was burrowing into the crook her arm, leaning against her shoulder, while Faye had her head on Celica’s lap, her legs kicked up over the Squish Couch’s armrest, Celica absentmindedly petting Faye’s hair.  
  
Celica blinked. “I- I’m sorry, what was the question?”  
  
“The question,” Tobin sighed, “is who is going to take who to this dance. Anybody?”  
  
“Alright. Well,” Boey said, fondly laying a hand in Genny’s hair. “Genny’s a baby, so she’s out of the running.”  
  
Genny slapped Boey’s hand away, indignant. “I’m not a baby!”  
  
“You’re fifteen.”  
  
“ _You’re_ sixteen!” Genny pouted. “I wanna go. I wanna dance!”  
  
“You can’t dance,” Celica laughed.  
  
“ _Celica!_ ” Genny whined. She got up, hugging her diary to her chest. “I’ll show you. I’ll show all of you! I can break it down! I can work it!”  
  
“ _I_ can work it,” Kliff scoffed. “ _You_ don’t even have an ass.”  
  
“ _WHAT?!_ ”  
  
“Is this what we’re doing now?” Alm wondered, puzzled, while Genny slumped back into her seat, scribbling furiously into her diary. “We’re just going to argue about butts? Is _that_ what’s happening?”  
  
“Kliff, aren’t _you_ fifteen, too?” Gray wondered.  
  
“Hush, Gray.”  
  
“Shut up. Shut up!” Tobin snapped. “C’mon guys, focus! Alright, look- there are five guys and five girls, so pairing us up should be pretty easy.”  
  
Tobin tapped his marker against the whiteboard on its easel.  
  
“Okay. Here’s how I see it: Alm, you can take Celica. Boey, Mae. Kliff, Genny, you two are the youngest, so you’re together. Gray and Faye, your names rhyme… And that means, I get to take Clair.”  
  
Mae blinked. “Do… do the girls get any say in this at all?”  
  
“Dude,” Gray protested, “how come _you_ get to go with Clair?”  
  
“ _Thank you_ , Gray,” Faye rolled her eyes.  
  
“Why do _I_ get stuck with the _baby_ ?” Kliff wondered.  
  
Genny fumed. “Call me a baby _one more time_ -”  
  
“Hey, hey, come on!” Tobin protested. “It’s a perfectly workable list!”  
  
“Yeah, for a beard party…” Faye muttered.  
  
“Yeah, right?” Celica laughed.  
  
“What does that mean?” Boey whispered, leaning into Mae’s shoulder.  
  
“What, does _nobody_ like my chart?” Tobin demanded.  
  
“I do!” Clair chirped.  
  
“Dude, what’s the point?” Gray asked. “You know we’re all just gonna wind up going together anyway.”  
  
“Like a gaggle of kittens,” Kliff concurred.  
  
Tobin sighed. “Okay then! Well if you guys would rather talk about selling raffle tickets and hosting car washes…!”  
  
“Hey!” Alm said, defensive. “People love those!”  
  
Tobin crossed his arms, pouting like no tomorrow. Gray and Clair exchanged glances, before Gray sighed and scooched over on the couch.  
  
“Hey,” Gray said. “Come here. Come _here_ .”  
  
Tobin stepped carefully over Genny, lying on her stomach and kicking her feet while she scribbled in her diary, and plopped himself down on Gray’s knees.  
  
“I thought it was a nice meeting,” Gray said. “There. Happy?”  
  
“No,” Tobin grumbled.  
  
They kissed- petulantly at first, on Tobin’s part, but then deeper, deeper-  
  
A whistle blew just outside the room. Gray unceremoniously shoved Tobin off his lap and Tobin smacked onto his back on the carpet, Kliff having a good chortle at his expense.  
  
An instant later, the door to the youth room banged open.  
  
“Good evening, everyone!” Silque chirped. “Mila provides!”  
  
“Mila provides,” the teens chorused dryly, even Tobin lying on the floor.  
  
Youth Minister Silque smiled, comfy in her official Church of Mila hoodie- a green dragon emblem with feathered wings on a white field- and tucked her ‘adults are coming’ whistle back into her shirt.  
  
“I see we’re all still trying to fit on the same couch,” Silque said. She took in the sight of Clair perched primly on an armrest, Kliff leaning against the back of the couch, and Tobin and Genny on the floor- not to mention the warm tangle of limbs on the couch proper.  
  
“I do note the word ‘trying’,” Silque laughed. “We’re not having _too_ much fun in here, are we…?”  
  
“No, ma’am,” Gray grinned.  
  
“Uh-huh,” Silque said dryly. “And you, Celica?”  
  
Celica smiled, squeezing Mae and Faye’s shoulders, keeping them close. She shrugged.

“What’s a little cuddle between girls, Sister?” Celica asked sweetly.  
  
“Gay!” Tobin called.  
  
“Like you can talk,” Boey chided.  
  
“Like _any_ of us can talk…” Genny muttered, turning a page and scritching away.  
  
“Well, then,” Silque continued, “how are we all enjoying the lock-in?”  
  
A general groaning. Silque waved her hand.

“Now, now, don’t be like that. This is a time of reflection, of communion. Nights like these, with no phones, no TV, no internet… it’s just you, and Mila, and your fellow teens. Because remember: when we get closer to each other, so, too, do we get closer to Mila.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah…!” Gray nodded. “So… does this mean we can all sleep here in the youth room tonight?”  
  
Silque barked out a laugh. “Nope!”  
  
~*~  
  
So, it was with great regret, and no small amount of contractual obligation, that the kids were separated, not just from each other, but from Squish Couch, the _truest_ symbol of their unity. Instead, they were upstairs, their sleeping bags set up in two different staff rooms on the opposite ends of a long corridor.  
  
Silque set up shop right in the middle of the hallway, plopping down in an armchair with her whistle, a flashlight, a Thermos full of hot cinnamon tea, a Thermos-sized mini fire extinguisher, and a good, thick book.  
  
Silque wasn’t stupid. Neither was Conrad, fresh from the seminary. They knew self-restraint only went so far- the poster of Duma hanging in the youth room was proof enough of that.  
  
(It was a poster of Duma, his arms laden with contraceptives. “DUMA PROTECTS… AND SO SHOULD YOU”. Really, quite tasteful.)  
  
Still, when it came to these kids, you never knew just what kind of trouble they’d get themselves into…  
  
~*~  
  
Genny giggled, a hand over her mouth. “Celica. You look so cool.”  
  
Celica blinked. “Huh?”  
  
Clair took out her compact and showed Celica exactly what she looked like- draped sideways on a couch (not the Squish Couch, but a smaller, lesser couch) with her blanket settled over her shoulders like a royal mantle, Mae and Faye both curled up at her side.  
  
“You look like a princess,” Clair said. “Or a queen.”  
  
“If Celica’s a queen and I marry her, would that also make me a queen?” Mae wondered sleepily, Celica petting her hair.  
  
“Technically,” Clair explained, “one of you would be a queen regnant, or reigning queen, and the other would be a queen consort.”  
  
“What would that make me?” Faye asked.  
  
“You can be a concubine,” Mae teased.  
  
“What!” Faye huffed. “Fight me, Mae!”  
  
“I’m right here! Get at me!”  
  
Faye reached over and yanked out one of Mae’s hair ties. Mae watched in horror as her right-side pigtail came undone.  
  
“Now I’m lopsided!” Mae wailed in faux-terror.  
  
Faye’s victorious grin turned to panic as Mae grabbed at her to return the favor.  
  
“No no no wait my hair’s in _braids_ !” Faye shrieked.  
  
Faye darted out of Mae’s grasp and ran, Mae scrambling to her feet to give chase, the two of them giggling madly all the while. Celica watched them go with the utmost fondness, her lips curling into a dreamy smile. That dreamy look turned to embarrassment when she saw Clair and Genny watching.  
  
“What?” Celica asked.  
  
“It’s poetic,” Clair cooed. “The childhood friend, and the lost love, fighting for your hand…”  
  
“‘Lost love’? Clair, I only moved away for, like, six years.”  
  
Clair waved the thought away. “Details, details. It’s still like something out of a fairy tale. Or a story.”  
  
“What, like one of Genny’s?”  
  
“Oooh!” Genny’s eyes lit up. “Are you all caught up? I just put up a new chapter!”  
  
“As soon as we get out of this lock-in, I promise,” Celica smiled. Genny spent her free time writing a story starring her and all her friends. She called it her ‘autobiography’, but her version of Ram Village had a lot more swords and sorcery than Celica remembers there being in real life.  
  
Mae flopped back onto Celica’s couch. She lifted her hand, proudly showing off a pair of hair ties looped around her wrist. Faye sat down next to her, pouting, her hair slowly unraveling from her twin braids.  
  
“Looks like I win,” Mae gloated.  
  
“Jerk,” Faye grumbled. “Hate you.”  
  
“Bite me.”  
  
Faye pecked her on the cheek.  
  
“No fighting,” Celica scolded, pulling them back down beside her.  
  
“They’re a handful,” Clair mused. “I can only imagine what Conrad thinks about them.”  
  
“Gee, Celica,” Genny teased, “how come your brother lets you have _two_ girlfriends?”  
  
“Don’t push it,” Celica laughed. “It was hard enough telling him I had two _boyfriends_ .”  
  
“I know well the feeling!” Clair tittered. “I wonder how they’re doing now…”  
  
~*~  
  
Kliff shut the door to the boys’ room behind him, blowing out a sigh. He wandered over and sat on the floor next to Silque in her armchair, running a hand through his hair. Silque blinked, peering over the top of her book.  
  
“Are you alright, Kliff? Need the bathroom? Can’t sleep?”  
  
“No, I can’t sleep,” Kliff grumbled. “All those guys are in there, despondent about how much they miss their girlfriends. _Bluh, bluh, I’m sad because I can’t cuddle the gf until tomorrow!_ Grow up.”  
  
“That’s harsh, Kliff,” Silque said. “Aren’t you missing anybody tonight?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Really? No girl that’s caught your eye?”  
  
“Nuh-uh.”  
  
“Not even a boy, then?”  
  
Kliff affected a gasp. “Lower your voice, Sister! What if Father Nomah hears you?!”  
  
Silque rolled her eyes. “Kliff.”  
  
Kliff went quiet for a long moment. He shrugged. “...I don’t know. There was a point when I thought… I don’t know. Gray, Tobin, and Clair have a good thing going.  Alm, Faye, Celica, Mae, Boey… those five are in one big Facebook ‘it’s complicated’ and I don’t want to add to that can of worms. And then Genny…” Kliff made a face. “...Genny’s off-limits. She’s a baby.”  
  
“By that logic, so are you.”  
  
“Please,” Kliff scoffed. “I’m a _man_ .”  
  
Silque snorted. “Yeah, okay!”  
  
Kliff rolled his eyes. “Laugh it up, Sister. Fine. What about you? I’m pretty sure a good chunk of us have had a crush on you at one point or another. Have you heard about that?”  
  
“Yes, Kliff, and I believe I said it was ‘inappropriate’.”  
  
“Oh, yeah? How do you figure?”  
  
“Because I was babysitting most of you half a decade ago? Because now I’m nineteen, your youth minister, and all of you are still in high school?”  
  
“Faye’s eighteen. What’s your point?”  
  
Silque clapped her book shut, and gave Kliff a weary look.  
  
“Kliff… go to sleep. Let _me_ worry about finding myself a date.”  
  
Kliff grinned. “It’s not my fault it’s all we ever seem to talk about. You all need to get some hobbies.”  
  
~*~  
  
“Hey. Boey.”  
  
“Yes, Alm?”  
  
“What are you thinking about?”  
  
Boey blew out a sigh. He was laying in a half-zipped sleeping bag, his hands resting on his stomach, gazing up at the ceiling.  
  
“...The girls,” Boey admitted. “Mae. Celica. Genny, too. Not in any intimate way, naturally, but more in the sense of wanting to attend her graduation, put her drawings on my fridge. That probably sounds patronizing, I apologize. You?”  
  
Alm took a deep breath and sighed.  
  
“...Love,” Alm said. “The future.”  
  
Boey glanced at him. “Really?”  
  
“Yeah,” Alm said. “I was just thinking that this, the ten of us, what we have here… it’s nice, y’know. Not having to really question what we are, put labels on what we are to each other, just enjoy things as they come. Simple. No secrets. I just wonder how much longer it’ll be like this. How long this is gonna last.”  
  
“If it will be, it will be,” Boey said sagely.  
  
“Yeah, but what if it isn’t?” Alm wondered. “Everybody wants to think they’ll be together forever, but are we forever? Would we still be forever when we graduate, when or if we all go to college, or if we go to work… there’s a lot of world out there that isn’t Ram Village. When that world opens up, I don’t know, maybe we’ll see we have other options and… I don’t know. What if the ten of us are only together by chance? What if it was only…”  
  
“Providence?” Boey offered.  
  
Alm shook his head. “...Proximity.”  
  
A heavy, thoughtful silence descended between them. Then:  
  
“...Also, yeah, I was thinking about the girls,” Alm said, sheepish. “I heard a rumor- okay, it was from Genny- that Celica was thinking she might use the ‘L’-word soon.”  
  
Boey blinked, puzzled. “...I thought she was bi…?”  
  
“Not ‘lesbian’!” Alm hissed.  
  
“Alright!” Gray announced, clapping his hands above his head. “I! Am! Bored! Who goes to bed at 11 PM, anyway? Hey! Tobin! You wanna make out?”  
  
“Don’t just go ‘Hey Tobin, do you wanna make out’ like you’re asking if we should get pizza!”  
  
“Hey, I’m serious! D’you wanna?”  
  
Tobin sighed and rolled his eyes. “...The last time we made out, you pushed me off the couch.”  
  
“Yeah, well, Silque was whistling, get over it. Come on.”  
  
“ _No_ , Gray.”  
  
“Fine, then,” Gray announced. “I have another idea.”  
  
“Do you want to put it on the list?” Alm asked earnestly, pulling the whiteboard and markers out from behind a desk. Boey blinked at him, puzzled.  
  
“Why did you bring that upstairs?”  
  
“Well, I thought, maybe we would keep brainstorming-”  
  
“Look at this guy, bringing homework to bed,” Tobin jeered.  
  
Alm huffed. “I was just trying to be prepared!”  
  
“Boy scout,” Tobin teased. A marker thumped against his chest.  
  
“Hey, hey, I’m onto something here!” Gray insisted. “I say we play a game!”  
  
A nervous tremor rippled through the guys’ room.  
  
Alm looked up to find both Boey and Tobin silently electing him their spokesperson. Alm cleared his throat.  
  
“Uh… Gray… no offense, but… some of your games get kinda… dangerous?”  
  
“Pfft,” Gray scoffed. “It’s gonna be fine!”  
  
~*~  
  
Midnight, and the kids were gathered on the sidewalk outside the church, huddling together in their blankets and sleeping bags. A man with a truly impressive salt-and-pepper mustache stood before them, his arms crossed, patiently tapping his foot.  
  
“Kids,” Police Captain Mycen began, “why are we standing outside the church?”  
  
“Because we set the youth room on fire,” they chorused.  
  
“Uh-huh,” Mycen sighed. “And why did we set the youth room on fire?”  
  
“Because _somebody_ -” Silque glared. “-thought it would be _funny_ to microwave a sock.”  
  
“Yeah, _Gray_ .”  
  
“Shut! Up! Tobin!”  
  
Mycen just shook his head, clapped Silque on the shoulder, and walked away.  
  
Silque pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath.  
  
“If you need me for anything,” Silque said wearily, thrusting a slip of paper and a pencil towards Gray, “I will be speaking to Youth Minister Conrad.”  
  
Gray flashed Silque a guilty smile, peeking at the slip. It was a handwritten note that Silque had been using as a bookmark. It read: ‘It was been 17 days since I have had to use my fire extinguisher.’  
  
Gray sighed. He took the pencil, erased the number seventeen, and wrote a big zero in its place.  
  
“This lock-in is over,” Silque said. She set a wicker crate down on the sidewalk. “You can all have your phones back. Captain Mycen doesn’t want us to stay in the church tonight, so you’re all free to go home. Call your parents to come pick you up, or ask me, Conrad, or Captain Mycen for a ride. I’ll see you all for service in the morning.”  
  
Silque rubbed her eyes, and heaved a sigh.  
  
“...Good night, everyone. Mila provides.”  
  
“Mila provides,” the kids muttered. Silque turned on her heel and stalked away.  
  
Celica watched as Silque and Mycen spoke to a dashing young man in white further up the block. Conrad looked up and met her eyes for just a moment. She winced, and looked away.  
  
“So…” Mae began. “...what do we do now…?”  
  
Faye shrugged. “I guess we just… go home…?”  
  
“Okay,” Celica said softly. When she looked up, there was a devious glint in her eyes. “Whose home are we all going to…?”  
  
A warmth bloomed across the circle of friends, their glum faces slowly breaking into eager grins.  
  
“Let’s go to my place,” Clair volunteered. “My folks are heavy sleepers, and we have plenty of space. Maybe we can think about the dance. I’ll take care of the dresses… I have plans, big plans! We’re all going to look our best!”  
  
“With what money?” Tobin asked. “How are you gonna pay for all that material?”  
  
“I think we can think of something.”  
  
There was a clatter beside them. Everyone turned to find the whiteboard, sitting on its easel, and Alm, bright-eyed, offering everybody a marker. They’d scarcely made it out of the parking lot, but they were already settling in on the curb, tangled up in one another, chattering in anticipation.  
  
“Alright, we have a lot to do,” Alm said, while everyone talked over each other and yet somehow understood everything they had to say. “We need to raise funds, we need decorations, we need clothes- Clair’s got clothes- we need food… we need music… we need to get Silque something nice…”  
  
“We gotta get a new microwave for the staff room.”  
  
“Maybe not- my brother might have a spare.”  
  
“Clair, why do you have a spare microwave just lying around?”  
  
“It’s ‘cuz she’s rich…”  
  
“ _I’m_ not rich. My _parents_ are rich.”  
  
“Alright, I’ll write it down... “ Alm looked up. “Yes?”  
  
“Yeah, I have a question,” Gray said. “Do you guys know where I can get a new pair of socks?”  
  
“At midnight on a Saturday…?” Alm rolled his eyes, and grinned. “...I’ll put it on the list.”  
  
And just like that, they were themselves again- just ten kids against the world, brainstorming for their upcoming dance. Ten kids, crammed on a park bench meant for four in the middle of the night- ten kids that were a noise violation just waiting to happen.  
  
It would take them more than an hour to get out of the parking lot. Another, to make it to Clair’s house. And it would take even longer than that before they fell asleep- in the pews at the Church of Mila, for morning service, after pulling an all nighter in a big pile on Clair’s living room floor. They were a ragged bunch, nodding off on each other’s shoulders. Some of them even had the audacity to snore. But in the end, when they were due for yet another scolding, all Silque could do was shake her head, and smile.  
  
~*~


End file.
